


A Bite Much Worse Than His Bark

by AshesTheTerrible



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Blood, Curses, Dismemberment, Gore, Lore - Freeform, M/M, Monsters, Murder, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Secrets, Transformation, Twisted relationships, blowjob, rimjob, wereskag, wereskag AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4421105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible/pseuds/AshesTheTerrible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack makes a trip down to Pandora on business and comes back with the worst kind of souvenir...a bite from a wereskag. Helios is up in arms over murders much more gory than it's normal 'I shot a man to get a higher position' killings, Rhys is faced with trying to keep Jack's terrifying secret and Jack is high on the power that his new found 'curse' gives him. The only thing that can kill a wereskag is an Eridium bullet from a slag weapon, and as Jack spirals farther and farther out of control Rhys realizes the inevitable. But will Rhys be able to pull the trigger on his own lover?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bite Much Worse Than His Bark

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo this is a little AU I could not get out of my head and thus had to write. I am a major werewolf fanatic and well this was needed in my collection of Jack and Rhys stories lol. This is inspired by my favorite book 'Cycle of the Werewolf' by Stephen King, and the chapter set up is similar to that story. Each chapter is a month, each one following another story as it goes through Jack's transformations, Rhys finding out and all the twists that go with it. So this will be a short 12 chapter story :) So here we go, all the smut, transformations, blood and gore that you can handle!  
> Some general facts about this AU, the only thing that can kill a wereskag is Eridium, which is like silver, so only slag weapons can kill wereskags. Also in this story Rhys has a pretty high up manager position, gotta give the little kid some power in this story.

 

January

Rhys stares across the massive desk unblinking and confused, his glossy mismatched eyes searching over the placid, sharp features of the Hyperion CEO staring back. He wasn’t sure exactly _what_ he was searching for in Jack’s unmoving expression, thin eyebrows pressed down over lazy green and blue orbs, mouth but a thin line as he rested his chin in his palm never losing Rhys’ gaze.

“Well…? I mean did I stutter cupcake?” Jack commented suddenly, his sharp, slightly annoyed tone cutting the silence between them like a knife.

Rhys closed his jaw hard and shook his head slowly. Jack’s eyes were burning coals set in his skull, ever watching, ever glittering with bad intentions. As Rhys sat in his presence he felt all of about two feet tall. Jack just had such a talent with that. He had the ability to make even the most powerful men _kneel_ before him. He could make the holiest of men pray to _him_. He made everything frightening and heavy and he made Rhys’ heart simply run away with itself. Even as Rhys sat there, the head of his department, the manager of sales and a prestigious Hyperion higher up in his own respects, he felt so utterly _small_ in Jack’s wake.

A wicked, slow smile spread like tar over Jack’s lips and his eyes gave way to something playful rather than mean.

“Good. Didn’t think I did sweet cheeks. Now, let’s get right down to it. I need you to oversee all my business while I’m gone. It’s just gunna be four days, I’m pretty sure even you can handle that. I’m leaving you a folder full of notes and itineraries, so even with your intelligence I’m pretty sure you can figure it all out, right pumpkin?” Jack cooed to Rhys softly.

Talking to Jack was ever so confusing. Rhys could never really tell whether he was praising him, complimenting him or insulting him. He said them all in the same warm, smooth, sensual tone that left the young man’s cheeks hot and his brain fuzzy. Jack was a master of backhanded compliments.

Rhys frowned at Jack’s words and looked to Jack angrily.

Jack’s lip twitches up into a malicious sneer as he folds his arms up behind his head lazily, cocking his head at his very angry partner. The kid was downright adorable when he got all flustered. Jack was past the point of actually being mean, now he was just out to push Rhys’ buttons, because well…frankly it was fun. Jack enjoyed the stupid little look that got stuck to the other man’s face when angered, a look that Jack could only describe as something similar to a fat kid that had been robbed of his piece of cake.

“Oh c’monnn now sweet cheeks don’t give me that look.” Jack chuckled pouting to Rhys dramatically.

“I am plenty intelligent enough to deal with your stupid workload Jack.” Rhys argued finally finding hold of his voice and curling his fingers around the armrests of the chair he sat in.

Jack’s chuckle was low and husky as it came off his ribs.

“Oh are you cupcake? You stapled your thumb to a stack of paperwork last week kiddo, so please forgive my doubts.” Jack hissed through a wide, shit eating grin.

Rhys frowned deeply and grunted in his throat. So he had stapled his thumb and bled all over his desk. It happens to everybody. That did not give Jack any right to insult his intelligence. This was coming from the man that had nearly burnt down sector F after putting a foil package in the microwave. Rhys wisely chose not to bring that little adventure up in conversation.

“Oh c’mon Jack it can’t be that hard to sit on my ass and jerk off to weird porn all day. Maybe take a break here and there to yell at an employee until they cry. Seems pretty self-explanatory.” Rhys snarled rolling his eyes rebelliously.

Rhys really hadn’t even considered the outcome of spouting off snarky words to the Hyperion CEO. He’d just done it without thinking and was instantly kicking himself for it. Jack’s moods were hit and miss, sometimes he loved Rhys’ little fits of misplaced confidence, other days such words would earn him a healthy dose of Jack’s hands around his throat.

Jack leaned back in his chair slightly, rumbling laughter exploding up from his chest. Rhys breathed a sigh of relief and cocked a nervous half smile at the CEO.

“Well aren’t you just a little friggin’ spitfire today? Oh kiddo you never cease to amaze me. So you got this? I mean I can trust you can’t I?” Jack questioned, his chuckles finally dying down as he slumped in his oversized black and yellow office chair.

Rhys sighs out and runs his cybernetic arm through his hair slowly. He realized he should be used to Jack asking him to do ridiculous favors and all, but this…this could be a bit more than Rhys could chew quite frankly. But Rhys was not about to let Jack know that. To Jack he was going to be nothing but cool and confident. He could handle anything for Jack, because Jack needed him to. And whatever Jack needed Rhys was more than happy to oblige. He is _always_ ready to please Jack. Always _willing_ to please Jack and that is what Jack likes about the pretty little manager most. He’s so _eager._

 _“_ Of course I can handle this Jack. Don’t worry about it.” Rhys brushes the massive task off lightly, as if it is some walk in the park job.

Rhys knows it isn’t but acts like it anyway because he knows Jack likes it when he’s confident. He likes his pretty little plaything _confident._ Jack smiles in that slow, easy way that really gets down into Rhys’ bones and Rhys feels himself shiver. Half because it is way too damned cold in Jack’s office as per usual, and half because his veins run with that age old feeling of icy want that makes his toes curl. Maybe Jack will reward him for this. Maybe Jack will be generous. The hour is late, _very_ late. Nearly twelve thirty according to Rhys’ echo eye. There is no risk of Jack’s PA walking through the doors at this hour because god forbid that woman every fucking _knock._ There would be no interruptions and there was no excuse not to. Rhys may have been exhausted, but he was never too tired for _that._ He was never too tired for Jack’s warm palms all over him and his hot breath on his tender neck. Rhys found himself flustered at the thought alone.

Rhys blushed softly and adverted his eyes to the floor quickly, hoping with all his heart Jack hadn’t picked up on his distress just yet. But he had. Of course Jack had. It was like the man had a sixth sense or something. It was like he could fucking _smell_ the other man’s arousal.

Jack ran his thumb across his thin bottom lip and leaned his head back slowly, eyeballing Rhys viciously. Rhys swallowed thickly, his spit feeling like it was clinging to the insides of his throat. He suddenly felt so very hot beneath the color and his cock stirred with sudden interest, fueled solely on the way Jack was merely _looking_ at him. Jack was watching him in a way that Rhys could only describe as _hungry._ Jack was staring Rhys down like he was a four course meal all laid out and ready to simply be devoured.

_Devoured._

God the word left such a sickly sweet ring through Rhys’ temple. It sent warm tingles reverberating through him like electricity and caused all the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. Rhys breathed out through his nose shakily. He wanted Jack to fucking _devour_ him. He wanted Jack to eat him alive, every piece, and every part. Swallow him whole. Rhys sucked in a sharp breath through his parted lips, shifting in his seat uncomfortably as his three piece suit became just a little too hot for his liking. Even with the chill of Jack’s office Rhys felt ridiculously warm and sticky. He gritted his teeth together and curled his toes up in his dress shoes. Jack had to understand it had been _days._ He had to understand how _needy_ the young man was. The week had been filled with late nights and early mornings and this was actually the first time Rhys had been alone with Jack and hadn’t been too exhausted to function.

God Rhys needed this.

“Y’know you’re really saving my ass here kiddo. I mean I didn’t exactly plan on a last minute trip to Pandora, but like I said it’s absolutely necessary that I go. So thanks cupcake, really.” Jack sneered blinking slowly and propping one of his boots up on his knee gently.

“It’s no problem Jack.” Rhys husked and Jack perked at the sound of the young man’s voice.

He knew that look the amber haired male was giving him. God he knew. He just wanted to…toy with him a bit before giving the half cybernetic man what he wanted.

“So pumpkin…anything I can do to show my _appreciation?_ ” Jack hissed through pearly teeth.

Rhys felt himself go numb as the words hit him. They were smooth and thick off of Jack’s tongue, like venom that had seeped right into Rhys’ bloodstream.

“ _Please.”_ Is the only word that leaves Rhys’ lips and that is all that is needed.

With that Jack rises from his expensive office chair, leaving it behind to swivel on its own and the only thing that fills Rhys’ ears is the tap of Jack’s fine leather boots on hard floor. Jack circles toward Rhys like a rakk to a carcass, quick and fluid and beautiful. It’s the way Jack moves, so utterly slow and graceful, that makes Rhys fall to pieces. He shatters so willingly into Jack’s open palms. Jack pushes Rhys back into the chair hard with one flat, heavy hand and Rhys grunts out as the breath is knocked from him. Jack slides his knees into the chair with Rhys, the furniture already too full with one man, and cramped with two. Jack pays little mind to Rhys’ trapped state and immediately big hands are running up through Rhys’ amber waves, locks curling around broad knuckles softly. The gentle touch is quickly followed up by a rough tug to Rhys’ scalp, snapping his head backward harshly. He can’t help but to groan against the less than gentle advancement and the grin that spreads across Jack’s cheeks in response is terrifying in the very definition of the word.

Jack pivots his weight into the young man’s hips and rocks teasingly, Rhys’ arousal made blatantly apparent with the contact. Jack chuckles down into Rhys’ ear and Rhys can smell the stale coffee on his breath.

“So hard already kitten? If that’s not pathetic…I don’t know what is.” Jack snarled his words sharp and mean.

Rhys grimaced and his palms found hold in the material of Jack’s leather coat.

“Shut up you’re hard too.” Rhys snarled back his eyes slatted just enough to throw Jack a glare.

Jack only sniggered in response and nipped at Rhys’ ear, the sharp of his tongue running around the shell slowly. Rhys gasped out and pressed his chin into his collarbone, his shoes shifting across the office floor involuntarily.

“How could I not be? You’re so fucking pretty baby boy.” Jack whispered into Rhys’ hair, his hips grinding into Rhys’ teasingly.

Rhys let loose of the low whine that had been held up in his throat and he could feel his cock throbbing against his work slacks pathetically. Jack was heavy on his lap, the older man having a little more solid meat clinging to his bones than the lanky man beneath him, but Rhys couldn’t find it in himself to complain. He knew what was coming next, or at least he could only hope he knew.

Jack crooned down then, his lips finding Rhys’ hard, teeth clacking together with Jack’s eager nature. Jack licked into the hollows of Rhys’ cheeks, tongue fighting the young man’s into submission and dominating his partner’s mouth skillfully. Rhys let him do it, more than willing to simply let Jack have control. Jack lived for control. Jack lusted for control. Jack needed control. So Rhys gave it all to him because that was what Jack liked most…a partner willing to give him what he wanted.

Jack’s right hand curled around Rhys’ Hyperion yellow tie, doubling it over his fist a couple of times, pulling it tight as he yanked Rhys harder into the escalating kiss. Rhys looped his arms loosely around Jack’s shoulders simply allowing himself to sink into the feeling of Jack’s tongue berating his. Jack kissed too eager, with too much tongue, and too much teeth and Rhys couldn’t get enough of it. Rhys was always eager for more. Jack broke the kiss with a hard nip to Rhys’ worried red bottom lip and Rhys nearly yelped at the painful contact. Rhys tastes blood when he dares to run his tongue over his lip and it is more arousing to him than it should be. It’s a sharp taste. So very full of a nickel-like pang and so very alive.

Jack’s kisses move down Rhys jaw, down to his neck, shoving down his collar to get to the circular tattoo rendered so dark and thick on his skin. Jack’s tongue dances the lines of the tattoo and the motion brings more than a groan up out of Rhys, this time it is a moan. An embarrassingly loud moan. Jack grins against the flesh and Rhys knows he’s pleased him. Jack likes it when he is loud. The louder the better.

“Mmmm Rhysie that’s it, lemme hear how much ya like it cupcake.” Jack snarls his hot breath pouring down Rhys’ tender flesh.

Every sense in Rhys’ body is heightened with the situation. He can hear every breath Jack takes, and the kick of the AC coming on across the room. He can hear the ticking of Jack’s wall clock and the subtle trickle of the fountains just behind him. He can taste the blood in his mouth and the hints of cinnamon left over from Jack’s tongue. He can smell Jack’s cologne, not as strong as when he’d put it on this morning, the scent having faded with the day’s activities but never the less it is still clinging to his neck in determination. He can feel Jack’s hardness against his, both still restrained behind taught clothing, begging for release from their confines. Jack’s hand tugs his tie and it is tight on his Adams apple.

The Hyperion CEO then suddenly leaned back ever so slightly. His playful eyes drawled over Rhys’ already disheveled form with absolute enthuse. Rhys was done up in a full three piece suit, navy blue in coloration, gold little buttons running down the front. Jack had to admit promoting the kid had been one of his better ideas. He was a hard worker and had a precarious knack for organization that Jack very obviously lacked. Jack had too many file cabinets overfull with crap and buried papers. Rhys on the other hand did not have a hair out of place when it came to his workspace. He could find files from ten years ago with just a flash of his echo eye and a flick of his wrist. Jack supposed that was why the kid was so good at his work, that echo eye gave him the one up that was for sure. But Rhys may have had a fancy echo eye, a pretty cybernetic arm and all his little ducks in a row but that never stopped Jack from finding his one, itsy bitsy, teenie, weenie little weakness.

The kid had a hard-on for Jack about the size of Pandora and that was all Jack needed to keep the kid under his thumb at all times. All he had to do was so much as brush his cheek and Rhys would be falling all over himself for the CEO. Jack liked an eager plaything, and that was certainly one thing the kid had down.

Jack’s fingers uncurled from Rhys’ ties and the CEO was hastily pushing Rhys’ overcoat back off his shoulders. Rhys more than happily obliged in shrugging it off, their mouths meeting once more for a split second. Hands fumbled to let loose of clothing, and Rhys quickly regrets his too many layers. Finally Rhys is left half naked and panting, looking to Jack with sickeningly innocent, wanting eyes. Jack’s fingers trace the outline of his counterparts pretty blue tattoos, his eyes fond and his smile devious. The kid is flushed from the roots of his hair down to his dress shoes and Jack wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves how he can push and pull the young man so very easily.

“So how’s about it Rhysie baby, you want big, bad Handsome Jack to show you just how thankful he is?” Jack snarls and his tone is so low and so dangerous.

Rhys instantly feels terrified and aroused and it is the most confusing feeling to have ever washed over him. Rhys’ hands grip at Jack’s Hyperion yellow faded sweater desperately and he nods furiously. Jack purses up his lips and taps his long index finger against his lip slowly.

“Now, now, now kitten, what have I _told_ you about using your words?” Jack snarls and tugs at Rhys’ belt.

“Sorry sir. Yes sir please sir.” Rhys pants out and it is too many ‘sirs’ for one sentence and it all comes out so jumbled and strange.

The hurry in Rhys’ voice only makes Jack grin wider, giving him the aura of some kind of playful poltergeist just about to haunt down into Rhys’ bones. Jack strokes a hand through Rhys’ hair and sweeps it down the side of his thin face.

“That’s better sweet thing.” Jack praises and his voice is like wind chimes in the breeze, light and easy and gorgeous.

Jack slides his coat off nice and easy, vintage leather coming off of broad shoulders fluidly. Rhys looks to him with begging, slatted eyes, mouth hung into a weak oval and cheeks painted brilliantly crimson. One layer off, Rhys thinks, several more to go. But he knows how Jack plays this game. Jack plays slow and unfair.

“Now…baby boy…tell me, _how much_ do you want it?” Jack purrs softly, shifting his hips just slightly causing Rhys to buck and whimper against him.

“B-Bad. I want it so bad Jack! _Please…_ ” Rhys begs shamelessly.

There’s that word again. Six letters, one syllable, and a symbol of all of Rhys’ dignity going out the window. Jack’s laughter swarms Rhys’ senses like wasps, rattling his brain and pricking his skin.

“Well ask…and you shall receive pumpkin.” Jack snarls with a wink and a smile.

Jack grabs the hem of his sweater and peels it up over his head, perfect hair rendered messy and ruffled with the motion. Rhys stares wantonly at Jack’s naked torso, his thick chest peppered with coarse brown hairs, hard abdomen heaving and toned. A thick line of brunette hair runs from Jack’s naval down below his beltline and several mean, old, scars carve out over his lower stomach and left peck. Jack drops the abandoned heap of yellow onto the floor and stretches up like a lithe cat in the new sunshine. His nipples are rendered erect as the cold chill of the room hits them and Jack outwardly hisses at the contact. Rhys can only stare in utter enthrallment at the gorgeous creature Jack paints himself to be.

Jack’s big hands move down to his belt, slowly sliding the leather out of its loops and letting the buckle dangle loose and lazy over his lap. Rhys reaches down to do the same because he is so ready and so needy but Jack’s eyes flash and he hisses out a _‘Uh,uh, kitten’_ that stops Rhys’ efforts in their tracks. Rhys whines because he knows this won’t be easy, and he knew that from the beginning, but he wants it to be so badly. He just wants. He wants so bad and so hard it is painful.

Jack knows that too.

Jack _always_ knows.

But Rhys is so hard and so pathetic. He’s lost in a string of involuntary whimpers that all happen as Jack undoes his jean’s catches and draws his zipper down. He isn’t wearing any underwear. Rhys knows as soon as his eyes are greeted with the sight of more of Jack’s brown curls and the beginnings of his cock. Rhys finds Jack going commando hotter than he really should and he squirms beneath the bigger man. Jack’s left hand tugs his jeans while his right reaches in to pull forth his thick erection. Jack is big, hard and lucid, his tip red and irate. Jack grins down at his own dick and fists it blatantly, flicking his wrist from base to tip in one fluid motion. Rhys groans and arches, greedily jealous of the attention being paid to Jack’s own erection, while his is left to throb and press against his zipper. Jack makes a low moan that rumbles up out his chest like a drum and smears wept pre-cum out over his fat head, the anatomy glistening with wetness in the lighting of the office.

Jack’s eyes flick up to Rhys suddenly, intense and malicious in nature.

“Beg. Beg _hard._ ” Jack commands and it isn’t a question, or a suggestion, it’s a do it now, and do it good.

Rhys brings forth whatever little spark of confidence he has left and obeys like any good pet would.

“Please Jack, please I want you, I want _all_ of you.” Rhys begs willingly his voice low and demeaned.

“Do you want _inside,_ huh sweet cheeks?” Jack questions slowly sliding off Rhys’ legs that were nearly numb with Jack’s weight.

Jack zips his belt all the way out of its loops and drops his jeans to the floor. He steps out of them so gracefully it hurts and then he spreads himself like butter over Rhys’ form once more. Jack snaps the belt taught and peers over its width to meet eyes with Rhys.

“Yes Jack, p-please I want inside, please.” Rhys manages his breaths shaky and broken.

“Good answer kiddo.” Jack whispers through perfect teeth and then nimble hands are sliding the belt around Rhys’ neck.

Jack pulls it tight and Rhys feels the leather bite into his flesh but he doesn’t flinch away. _Tighter_ , he thinks. Only he doesn’t really and it comes out as a strangled whisper.

“Can’t hear ya cupcake.” Jack lulls.

“Tighter.” Rhys says louder with more muscle behind it.

Jack obliges and pulls the belt just tight enough to render Rhys’ breathing difficult. When Rhys swallows his Adams apple pushes against the fine material and that is just the way he likes it. It’s a warm, wonderful feeling against his pulse and it only has his dick weeping more fluid against his best dress slacks.

Jack leans down to suck the taught leather and runs his tongue down the length until it meets with Rhys’ throat, fawning over his handy work lazily.

“Nice and tight just like you like it sweetheart.” Jack husks dragging his tongue up the side of Rhys’ cheek disgustingly.

Rhys arches into the motion, turning his head and groaning as Jack stops at his port, tapping his teeth against the cool metal a couple of times before letting it alone. Then finally, _finally_ Jack’s free hand is moving to Rhys’ struggling zipper. Slow fingers work the teeth apart and drag the zipper-pull downward. Jack peels apart Rhys’ navy slacks and lets the belt fall slack for a moment to free Rhys’ lower half. Slacks and grey boxer briefs join the pile of clothing on the cold office floor and Rhys slumps back against the chair needy and oversensitive. His cock stands full and proud up over his stomach, arching just slightly. Jack strokes down him, pulling foreskin back gently to bring forth his rosy, dripping head. Rhys gasps and writhes as Jack’s palm works back up him, a bundle of skin forming beneath his ring of fingers with the upstroke. Rhys pulses and weeps onto Jack’s fingers weakly, the sounds ringing from his mouth rendered pathetic to say the very least.

“Mmm cupcake I’m going to absolutely _wreck_ you.” Jack snarls, lip curling up like a wolf baring its teeth.

Rhys just nods in agreement, too weak and too useless with need to actually have a prayer of forming words. Jack lets the little incident slide because he _knows_ just how far gone Rhys actually is.

Then Jack is gone again, leaving Rhys to pant weakly and slide down into the black leather of the chair, his fingers shakily finding hold on the arms, desperately trying to keep himself upright. When Jack returns he has a small bottle in hand and Rhys smells the cherry lubricant before he sees it, his eyes coming open just in time to watch Jack pour the red solution down over his index and middle fingers. Jack lifts onto his knees and fucks himself open with his thick fingers, breath ragged and torn as it pulls from his chest. All Rhys can do is watch the show with slow eyes, fingers splaying out over Jack’s powerful thighs meekly. He’s always a little timid to actually _touch_ Jack in these situations but Jack doesn’t seem to mind, in fact hardly even acknowledges the advancement other than the hiss that comes from his lips as Rhys’ cold metal hand touches bare skin. Jack’s free hand snaps the belt taught again and Rhys chokes at the pull of the leather. His dick begs for attention as Jack hovers over it and his body begs even harder.

Jack removes his finger and brings the wet digits to Rhys’ mouth. Rhys opens obediently and curls his tongue around the used digits, coming away with the sharp taste of cherry lubricant. Rhys hums against Jack’s hand, bobbing his head and working his mouth around the offered anatomy. His eyes come open slightly and there is so much appreciation behind his heavy lids it makes Jack’s knees weak. He could just do this all day if the universe would allow. Jack takes his slick fingers from Rhys’ mouth, dragging a thick line of spit down Rhys chin as he does so. Jack steadies himself over Rhys’ hardness and rocks against the thick erection slightly before pressing the blunt head to his entrance. Rhys’ eyes roll back in his head as Jack begins to sink down on him. His head makes it passed Jack’s tight ring of muscle and Rhys could literally cum that very second fueled only by the beginnings of Jack’s tightness and the sounds coming through the CEO’s teeth. Jack sounds utterly _obscene._

Jack takes another inch, then another, and it is a slow process to take Rhys in. Not because Jack needs time to stretch, but because Jack likes to see Rhys squirm against every centimeter he takes. Jack flutters and pulsates around Rhys girth and Rhys grits his teeth so hard it makes his jaw ache. His hands are on Jack’s hipbones, finding desperate hold on the suntanned flesh. Jack slowly sinks down just a little more and hums when Rhys bottoms out, stilling for a moment to let himself adjust. Rhys cringes and throws his head back.

It’s tight. _Really_ tight. Almost _too_ tight. The squeeze around Rhys’ dick is so intense it borders on the lines of painful and Rhys can barely handle it, for a moment he isn’t even sure if he can. It’s so different raw and it’s so much more _vivid_. The last time they had done this Jack hadn’t wanted to be left with the disgusting feeling of cum within him the rest of the workday and he’d made Rhys wear a condom. Today he seemed less worried about that, seeing as the only thing he’d be doing after this would be collapsing down into his bed sheets and passing out.

“How does it feel?” Jack barks and there’s the pull of the belt and the snap of Jack’s teeth.

Rhys pivots his hips a little, attempting to force movement for Jack, but the powerful man tightens his hold on the belt and shoves Rhys down.

“ _Don’t_ move.” Jack snarls and the command is enough to shake fear right into Rhys’ very soul.

Rhys whimpers and stills his hips looking to Jack with utterly pleading eyes.

“I-It’s….it’s _tight_.” Rhys near sobs his cock so overstimulated and his body so weakened.

Jack clenches around him and Rhys’ knees buckle, his thighs shaking viciously.

“You’re damned right it is kitten.” Jack growls his voice so thick and so merciless.

Jack rolls his hips forward, lifting up off Rhys until only his fat head is incased, then sinking all the way back down in one graceful motion. Rhys does his best to stay still, a small amount of drool running down his lower lip as he yells and begs. Jack has half a mind to compliment the young man on his colorful language, but he decides to save that for later. All that comes off Rhys’ tongue are strings of swears including things along the lines of ‘ _son of a fuck!!’ ‘Jesus fucking Christ oh more!!’_ and the occasional rough declaration of Jack’s own name. Jack’s hips were steady as he thrust Rhys into his entrance, body rocking and moving all like one very well-oiled machine. Rhys can’t do anything but beg and pray to Jack like a sinner to the altar. He’s so wrecked and so pitiful and Jack eats it up so very eagerly. Jack’s cock bobs before him, his big fingers coming to wrap around himself slowly. It’s all very much like a coordinated dance, Jack fucking down onto Rhys, his fist sliding up his big cock, the belt pulling tight to slam their lips together mercilessly. Jack tastes like fear and lust. Rhys is pretty sure it is the most bitter sweet thing he has ever tasted in all his life. Jack’s body is tight and warm and wet around him and he isn’t sure how much longer he can hold out. He is pretty sure it hasn’t even been ten minutes yet and he’s embarrassingly close. Rhys whimpers like a kicked puppy against Jack’s lips.

Jack is so powerful and the belt is so tight and it all consumes Rhys like a big, beautiful beast. Rhys throws himself willingly into the fire, letting it take him, letting it eat him alive. Rhys throws his head back then, feet scrambling, hands scraping over the Hyperion CEO’s biceps and he yells so loud it makes Jack’s ears ring. The kid is an utter wreck beneath him and Jack knows by the young man’s desperate, twitching hips that he’s close. He never last longs when Jack allows him to do this. Half of Jack just likes to know he can get the kid off so quickly and the other half just enjoys taunting Rhys for it later. Both reasons are solely for Jack’s own selfish needs. Rhys pants loudly, his head light and fuzzy from the lack of oxygen. His throat is dry and his limbs are shaky. Jack’s name finds a permanent hold on Rhys’ tongue and Rhys cries it like it is all he knows. Over and over and over again.

Rhys vaults his hips, cock bumping pleasantly against Jack’s prostate and Jack makes a low sound like he’s been kicked in the gut. Then Rhys cums. Thick, powerful bursts of ejaculation shooting up into the tight confines of Jack’s ass, cock pulsating with each expulsion of semen. Jack shudders against the feeling of being filled and Rhys holds onto him for dear life as he rides out his hard orgasm. Jack stills then, loosening the belt that he knows is too tight and letting it fall over the back of the chair. There are purple lines twisted around Rhys’ tender pale neck and Jack loves the very sight of them. Jack leans down to kiss at the ugly bruises that he thinks are beautiful and Rhys just sighs weakly. All the young man can do is lie beneath Jack, boneless and utterly spent, body sweaty and shivering.

“Oh kiddo, a little quick on the trigger tonight huh? Aw that’s real cute pumpkin.” Jack said slyly grabbing Rhys’ chin and shaking slightly.

Rhys sagged against the chair, eyes still closed, his breathing coming out in short shallow pants. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed or riled at Jack’s pointed words. He was too lost in post orgasm bliss to actually care. Jack hefts off of Rhys’ wilting cock and looks deviously down to the tired man before him. Rhys’ finish oozes slowly from Jack’s hole, the wet sensation of the fluids running down between his thighs.

“My turn baby boy.” Jack snarls and mean fingers are dragging Rhys from his seated position and forcing him down onto the floor.

Rhys scrambles to catch himself and looks to Jack with wide, confused eyes. Jack plunks himself down into the leather chair, thick cock bouncing before him and he hitches one knee up, spreading his legs out expectantly.

“Get down there and clean up the friggin mess you made.” Jack snarls motioning downward.

Rhys crawls on his knees weakly, half in consciousness and half out. His lazy eyes run up to Jack’s lurid asshole, pulsing red and open, Rhys’ own finish and cherry lubricant leaking out around it. Rhys groans low in his chest and brings himself to kneel before Jack’s spread legs, the point of his tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe up over Jack’s entrance. Jack groans against the young man’s tongue and his leg twitches slightly as he slumps backward into the office furniture.

Rhys laps at the puckered flesh, tongue running circles around the red ring of muscle, coming away with the sharp taste of his own finish mixed with artificial cherry. Jack moans and pushes against Rhys’ mouth, wanting more and not being polite about it.

Jack’s rough fingers find Rhys’ wavy locks and knuckles curl harshly in the amber strands. Jack forces Rhys mouth down into his ass, a wild snarl coming hot off his tongue.

“Get in there and _taste it_.” Jack barks and Rhys shutters for breath, smothered between Jack’s cheeks, nose pressed just below Jack’s testes.

Rhys’ tongue licks into Jack’s entrance, finding it slick and wet against his anatomy. Rhys looks upward with half lidded, wanton eyes. He can smell the sweat pooled beneath Jack’s balls and he huffs the smell in like a bong hit languidly. Rhys sucks his lips around Jack’s entrance, biting gently and getting a loud hiss from the older man. Rhys’ ears perk to the wet sounds of Jack jerking himself off and Rhys is lost in the absolute disgusting ecstasy of it all. Jack moans and pants as Rhys worships his ass diligently. The kid is all mouth and tongue, lapping so willingly and so industriously. The young man was just made to live on his fucking knees, and Jack is pretty sure he’s mentioned that in passing more than a few times. Jack relishes in the way Rhys’ tongue explores his orifice, wet and slippery as it moves and tastes. Jack feels the slow tingle of an orgasm settling down into his gut and he bites his bottom lip roughly.

Nothing is better than having the kid lap up the remnants of his own orgasm. Watching him do it so compliantly is so good it could give a grown man cavities. Rhys’ hands grip around Jack’s thighs as he buries himself between Jack’s legs, nuzzling and moving his chin wanting deeper, wanting to do nothing but please. Jack’s fingers never loosen their grip on Rhys’ hair, only twisting tighter with more urgency.

And then Jack is dragging Rhys off of him, cum and saliva stringing between Rhys’ bottom lip and Jack’s asshole. Jack leans forward, his hand still working, stroking his cock quick and needy as he yanks Rhys’ head back.

“Hope you got room for seconds cupcake.” Jack growls through his teeth.

Jack hisses a barely audible ‘ _open’_ and Rhys does as instructed, leaning his head back too far, opening his mouth up wide and ready, tongue lolling out ready for more. Jack lifts slightly out of the chair, cock aimed to Rhys’ open mouth, head barely touching to Rhys’ tongue every so often. Jack makes a low sound and his eyes squint shut and the first cumshot paints up across the bridge of Rhys’ nose. The next nearly gets Rhys in the eye and the third finally hits its target, slathering across Rhys’ ready tongue. Rhys doesn’t dare swallow until Jack has unloaded every last drop into his awaiting mouth, only then does Rhys close his lips around Jack’s swollen head and suck lazily. Jack tastes thick and salty on his senses, causing Rhys to shudder as he swallows and swallows, until there is nothing left but his own spit.

Jack slowly lets go of Rhys’ hair and Rhys can already tell his scalp is going to be tender in the morning. Jack slaps back against the seat, the sound of skin against leather loud and sharp. Jack is panting like he’d just ran a damned marathon and Rhys doesn’t even try to move until Jack speaks.

Jack looks down with slow eyes assessing the damages to his partner wryly. Rhys looks like a sloppy mess, spit, cum and red lubricant smeared all down his chin, thick lines of cum decorating up his face like war paint. Jack smiles at the boy’s bushed state and runs a tired hand through his disheveled locks. Jack reaches out and brushes an ankle against Rhys’ shaking arm.

“Not half bad cupcake. Coulda used a little more tongue though.” Jack snarled.

Rhys just rolled his eyes in response.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jack lay sprawled naked over the grand comforters, taking up more of the bed than he really needed. Half the time Rhys really wondered why the man asked him to come over and spend the night in the first place, he always ended up with a small corner of the blankets and shoved to one side of the massive bed. Most the time he only wanted Rhys to stay because he wanted dirty morning sex before work. But Rhys wasn’t about to question Jack’s motives tonight, he was just too tired and the promise of a warm bed was too good to pass up. Honestly Rhys was at that point where he most likely would have slept on the floor and not been too picky about it. His body felt overused and overworked and he was _exhausted._ As soon as Rhys allowed himself to fall limply on the bedding Jack’s overbearing arms were all around him. Normally Rhys would just get annoyed with Jack’s clingy bed habits but once again Rhys found himself too tired to care. Rhys tucked his leg between Jack’s thighs and curled in on the bigger man with a low grumble. Rhys sighed out into Jack’s chest and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep…really he did…but there was just something he had to say first.

“You know I’ve got the bad feeling about this right?” Rhys says suddenly and Jack murmurs something before actually forming words.

“About what?” Jack questions tiredly his voice gruff and raw from lack of sleep.

“You going down to Pandora. I’m getting the bad feeling. You know, the one I told you about?” Rhys sighs softly.

Jack groans and Rhys is pretty sure the CEO rolls his eyes.

“The same feeling you used to convince me _not_ to take that deal with that guy from Eden seven?” Jack grumbled lowly.

“Yeah. The one that turned out to be a major scam and I saved your ass by telling you not to do it.” Rhys corrected stubbornly.

“Lucky guess kiddo.” Jack snarled sleepily.

“Whatever, well I am getting that feeling again.” Rhys said and Jack shifted around him slightly.

“So you are saying I _shouldn’t_ go down to Pandora?” Jack grumbled.

“Yeah.” Rhys replied.

“Kiddo I have to. Something’s fucking with the efforts going toward building the next super city over in Lynchwood. People are dropping like flies and literally nothing is getting done on schedule. If the workers are scared they won’t work, and if the workers won’t work, no new advancements on the project. There have been casualties and accidents and the place is just a fucking mess. I gotta go down and straighten some business out cupcake it’s unavoidable.” Jack growled burying his face in Rhys’ hair.

Rhys sighed in response.

“I know just…be careful down there.” Rhys whispered.

Jack sniggered darkly against him.

“Aw shucks kiddo I didn’t know you cared! Next thing I know we’re gunna be skippin’ around holding hands and watching romantic comedies on the couch together.” Jack snarled sarcastically.

Rhys huffed out in annoyance.

“I take that back, I hope a Thresher fucks you to death.” Rhys growled back sharply.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jack is gone long before Rhys ever stirs, booked for an early flight to Pandora’s surface. The whole trip down his brain is muddied by thoughts of Rhys’ words to him the night previous. Rhys had a bad feeling and Jack was just going to ignore it. Rhys had bad feelings all the time; it was probably indigestion or something like that. Jack pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind as the shuttle landed and Hyperion workers were at his sides, the train already at the station and ready for an urgent trip to Lynchwood. The large engine hissed and moaned out loudly, the sound kissing at Jack’s ears as he blinked into the new light. The body guards that flanked him were all armed with the biggest, newest weapons hot off Hyperion’s line. Jack cracks his neck, it having been rendered stiff when he fell asleep on the shuttle ride in. As soon as his feet touch the ground a little man with glasses too big for his face and a clipboard clutched in his hands is scrambling through the workers to get at Jack.

“S-Sir, Mr. Handsome Jack sir…!” The man calls in a nasally voice that Jack instantly knows is going to get really old, really fast.

Jack grimaces, oh god he’s waving now, Jack grimaces darker.

“Yeah? Whaddya want pipsqueak?” Jack snarls tearing his attention away from addressing his workers to give half of it to the short man at his side.

Jack dismisses a group of workers with a flick of his wrist and a sharp snap of orders through his teeth. The man’s eyes hit the ground and he flounders for words helplessly.

“S-Sir my name is Mr. Grimes I’m in charge of-“ The man starts but Jack cuts him off pointedly.

“Ah, tut, tut, tut, don’t care. I don’t care about your name, or what you do. Where’s my wildlife expert like you promised?” Jack snarls as the little man tries to keep up with Jack’s long legged strides fruitlessly.

“Right uh…he’s just ahead…” The little man stutters fearfully.

About that time Jack passes under to the shade of the train station, through the bustle of workers and equipment he catches the glinting eye of a darker, prestigious looking man with a large adventurer worthy hat perched atop his head.

“Mr. Handsome Jack may I introduce you to Sir Hammerlock, wildlife expert extraordinaire. You wanted the best, he _is_ the best.” Mr. Grimes squeaks as Jack stands face to face with the familiar man.

Jack’s lip curls up into a wickedly amused smile as he buries his big palms in his pockets casually.

“Sooo Hammerlock old buddy, seems you’ve changed sides since the last time I was down here on Pandora huh? What got fed up with those dirty Vault Hunters after all?” Jack sniggered digging a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and perching one between his thin lips.

Hammerlock seemed to chew over his response as he watched Jack light up and take a long draw on the cancer stick.

“Sir I assure you my allegiance remains the same. Though this job was hard to pass up. I, like everybody else have bills to pay. Though rest assured we are not ‘chums’ Mr. Handsome Jack. Nor will we ever be. Now may we kindly get this journey underway? It is quite chilly out and I wish to drown my disgust with myself in fine booze and warm food, as I assume will be provided.” Hammerlock droned in his overly gentleman-like tenor.

Jack just chortled and adjusted his big leather coat slightly as he let loose of a wisp of smoke from his lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Can’t deny I sure as hell do pay better. And you won’t be at risk of me beating you over the head and cannibalizing you like back in your scummy little bandit camp.” Jack chuckled wryly.

Hammerlock simply gazed at Jack with unwavering eyes, and the two powerful men seemed to lock within a stare down that rattled earth and sky alike. The man sure did have some weird cybernetics. Obviously he hadn’t opted for the high tech Hyperion prosthetics like Rhys was armed with.

With that Jack finished his cigarette, stomped his boot down on the butt and stalked passed Hammerlock. Jack clapped a big palm to Hammerlock’s back and steered the older man in the direction of the awaiting train.

“Well Hammerlock whaddya say we go find ourselves what sunnofabitch is eatin all my men shall we?” Jack chimed heading off for the gently smoking train, little flurries of snow beginning to fall lazily from the January weather soaked sky.

“I am under contract to agree.” Hammerlock grumbled.

Jack broke out in hearty laughter and slapped Hammerlock’s back a second time.

“Oh so bandits can have a sense of humor!? Go figure.” Jack sniggered.

Jack hauled himself aboard the train after snapping at Mr. Grimes to show Hammerlock to his quarters and get him settled for the trip. With the two men out of his hair Jack was free to saunter off to his private car at the very front of the train. The car was lined with dark green interior, all fine wood and plush furniture. Jack breathed out lowly and slumped down onto the big couch, working feeling back into his numb fingers slowly. Pandora had hellish summers and brutal winters and Jack was pretty sure it didn’t have seasons other than those two. That was it. Hot or freezing. No in-betweens.

Jack groaned to himself and pinched at the bridge of his nose tiredly. He shouldn’t have stayed up so firggin late. He should have known better by now, but that temptation to have that pretty little amber haired fox all to himself was just too great. Speaking of which he then wondered how the kid was holding up on his first day of playing substitute to Handsome Jack. Jack grabbed his echo device and punched in the code, holding the screen out in front of him and waiting for the device to connect. After two rings the call is picked up and Rhys’ tired looking face appears to Jack.

“Hey, hey kiddo! You look like…shit actually.” Jack chuckled shifting slightly and leaning back into the big pillows.

Rhys just frowns and rolls his eyes and if Jack had actually been there in person he would have fucked that little attitude right out of the young man. Jack keeps that thought to himself and only lets it loose in the form of a devious smile.

“I feel like shit too. Have you been sick? Because seriously I think I’m coming down with a cold.” Rhys complained.

Jack shrugged his shoulder up and tilted his head.

“Yeah, but that was like last week or sumthin kiddo.” Jack said nonchalantly.

Rhys whined out loudly.

“Jacccck why didn’t you tell me that!? God and I was kissing all over you and now I feel like shit warmed over.” Rhys groaned.

“Well honestly you must have contracted that from my asshole cause that’s where you were doing the most kissing.” Jack chimed with a wink and sly grin.

“Don’t be gross Jack.” Rhys snarled.

“Soooo how’s it going? You know getting to be me for a few days and all? That’s like your life dream and all right, getting to be the great Handsome Jack?” Jack mocked meanly.

“It’s fine. I already sorted out all your meetings for the next few days, filed most your paperwork, cleaned off your desktop, signed the documents going off to the different departments. Just like I said, not a problem.” Rhys said bleakly clearly un-amused with Jack’s teasing.

“But seriously Jack how much porn do you have on this computer? I’m having trouble actually finding documents through all your weird fucking smut.” Rhys jabbed flatly.

Jack erupted into hearty laughter and shook his head.

“Make a note to watch some of it. Maybe you’ll get ideas for when I get back sweet cheeks.” Jack snarled wickedly.

“I’ll make a mental note to sprout tentacles so I can fuck you with my weird octo-arms. You know since you’re apparently into that. Jeezus Jack really?” Rhys grumbled.

Jack hummed through the echo.

“Hey now don’t be jabbing at a man’s tastes.” Jack pouted dramatically.

“I have work to do Jack, so did you really _need_ anything or are we really just going to sit here talking about tentacle porn?” Rhys quipped shortly.

“Well I mean that does sound like a pretty interesting conversation and this is a long train ride…” Jack said waggling his eyebrows at Rhys.

“Goodbye Jack.” Rhys huffed before clicking the device off.

Well he was in quite the mood. Jack made note to address that when he got back to Helios.

The train ride was long, and the day’s events were even longer. It consisted of Jack dealing with all the casualties, all the while listening to Hammerlock talk about this species and that species. Hammerlock collected samples off the landscape and observed the bodies, testing this and that and frankly it all sounded about like voodoo magic to Jack. Hammerlock’s final observation was that the killer was a hybrid of some sort, drawn to this place based on the abundance of food and shelter. Hammerlock had mentioned some vague references to something half human half animal but Jack really hadn’t been listening. It all sounded like a steaming pile of bullshit to him. Half human half animal hybrids, what a load of crap. By the end of the day all Jack knew is that he was in desperate need of a strong drink followed by several more strong drinks after that. The bar settled deep in the heart of Lynchwood seemed like just the place.

Jack dragged himself into the old timey building and settled himself down onto one of the rickety barstools his body spent and tired from a long day’s work in the frigid cold. The snow outside had only began to fall harder and Jack was thankful for the raging fire flaring in the big pot belly stove at the back of the bar. He puffed into his hands to warm his palms and shook some stray flakes of snowfall from his dark brunette locks. The bar was filled to the brim with workers and the tune coming from the player piano up on the small stage was something straight out of an old western movie. The bartender limped slowly over to Jack, busying himself with wiping an empty glass clean.

“What can I get you sir?” The older gentleman lulled his sparkling blue eyes peering out from wrinkled sockets.

“Whiskey on the rocks. Make it strong kiddo.” Jack sighed leaning his elbows on the old bar casually, fingers trying to work the throbbing headache out of his temples.

The bartender slid the dainty glass into Jack’s gloved fingers and the CEO tucked a hundred dollar bill into the barkeep’s tip jar.

“Well hello gorgeous…” Jack whispered as he tipped the drink to his lips and felt the amber liquid burn down his throat and settle warmly in his stomach.

Instantly warm tingles spread out through Jack’s skin like flurries of fire sparks. The feeling is heavenly when faced up against how absolutely exhausted he is. He downs the drink maybe a little too quickly and then he’s asking for another. Just as he puts his second drink to his lips there is the easy sound of spurred boots clinking across the old wood coming toward him. Jack side glances over his shoulder and catches a glance of the dark haired woman.

Suddenly she takes a seat next to him and bright white teeth unsheathe from behind purple lipstick painted pillows.

“Well, well, been a long time pretty boy.” She chuckles and it’s an easy, gorgeous tone that Jack knows all too well.

Jack turns in his seat to meet eyes with the woman and burning yellow meet with heterochromatic emerald and cyan.

“Nisha?” Jack chuckles a grin breaking out across his thin features.

Nisha tips her hat upward and her face is no longer cast in shadow, instead she greets Jack with a sly, curious expression and a bright smirk.

“Kinda cliché runnin’ into your Ex at a bar and all.” The dark haired woman chortled and Jack only shook his head grinning wryly.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be visitin! Shoulda called Handsome, we coulda gone out and done some target practice on my death row jailbirds.” Nisha chuckled as the bartender fetched her a beer and she popped it open smoothly before gulping down a few swallows.

“Naw, I’m not here on leisure kitten. Got some trouble with the city project. People getting’ eaten, it’s a god damned shit show.” Jack sighed grimacing and propping his boot up on his folded knee.

Nisha shook her head.

“Yeah I heard word of what’s going on over there on the build site. Well hey, at least the mining operations are still golden, thanks to me of course.” Nisha said laughing slyly.

Jack shrugged his shoulders up and smiled in return.

“Atta girl.” Jack chuckled.

“Well hey, let’s drink, for old times’ sake huh Handsome?” Nisha said raising her beer to Jack’s glass.

Jack clinked his drink against hers and they both tipped back their beverages.

“To running into your Ex at a bar.” Jack replied chuckling.

“To running into your Ex at a bar.” Nisha parroted.

The two former lovers moved their little night of good drinks and good company over into a little rounded booth at the corner of the bar. Jack sat lounged back into the plush seat, heavy boots plunked up on the table brashly. He’s deep into his fifth drink and he is far past just a light buzz. His body feels warm and light and all the day’s events just slide right off his shoulders like water. He gently rocks the amber liquid left in his little crystal glass, the ice clinking together softly. Jack drains his drink with one slow swallow and Nisha watches him with curious eyes. This was the first lull in their conversation that had formerly been filled with laughter and talk of how they had been. Nisha rested her chin in her palm and leaned over the table slightly.

“So Handsome, you seeing anybody lately? I mean I bet it gets lonely up there in space.” Nisha purred her eyes glinting and playful.

Jack tilted his drink back, capturing an ice cube with his tongue and sucking it slowly.

“Yeah kinda. I guess you could say that.” Jack laughed lightly his thoughts trailing to the awkward man back home currently dealing with all his business.

“Oh well darn. Didn’t know you were _taken._ Shame, we coulda had a lot more fun tonight…” Nisha lulled her eyes glinting with that look Jack had known all too well back when they were dating.

Jack swallowed drunkenly and leaned harder into the cushion.

“Well, I mean we fuck occasionally. And he…-hic-…stays over sometimes. But-hic- that’s about it.” Jack slurred playing his little relationship off as much less than he really knew it to be.

Jack would never admit how much he actually liked the kid. But god he did. Rhys was a lay like he’d never had before. He was limber and quirky and he was sort of interesting to talk to. Not like the rest of the idiots running around on Helios.

“Oh, so just a fuck buddy thing?” Nisha whispered scooting closer to Jack’s lounged position.

“Well, hell I dunno. Kinda not really…” Jack shrugged the alcohol making his tongue much too fat for his mouth.

“Well, how about you just…not be taken…for one night Handsome.” Nisha hissed and before Jack could protest, the slender woman was sprawled out over his lap.

Jack looked up to her with drunken eyes and he felt the press of her lips against his. But in his drunken state it wasn’t Nisha kissing him, it was Rhys, and so he kissed back. He kissed back hard and merciless. The woman moved against him and his big palms wrapped around her pulling her in. Jack’s slow eyes opened excepting to see his favorite young man sitting so pretty across his lap, but instead it was only the beautiful form of his ex-girlfriend. Jack’s eyes widened slightly and he gently pushed Nisha off of him. He didn’t want to kiss Nisha, and for some reason he suddenly felt…bad about it.

“Nisha I…I gotta go…” Jack stuttered scrambling upward drunkenly and heading out the front door.

His heart was thundering in his chest and he couldn’t calm it down. Handsome Jack didn’t fucking feel guilty and it was just a stupid kiss, so why did he feel like this? Because he was piss drunk, that’s why. Jack stumbled out into the snow, driven by drunken steps and the need to find somewhere to take a piss. A drunken call to his lover on Helios was not a good idea, but drunk Jack sure thought it was.

Jack leaned hard against the wall, clicking his echo device and fumbling to get his pants undone, his bladder screaming for release.

When Rhys picks up, Jack knows he woke him out of a dead sleep. The kid looks fucking ridiculous, hair all a mess and eyes half lidded.

“Rhysieeeee Rhys…I gotta…I gotta tell ya sumthin…I…I kissed Nisha…I’m so sorryyyyyy…” Jack whined tripping a little and trying to steady himself enough to not piss on his own shoes.

Rhys blinked tiredly and scrunched up his nose.

“W-What? Jack what the fuck are you talking about?” Rhys groaned still half asleep.

“It didn’t mean….anything…hic…at all…I just…I just had to tell you…” Jack mumbled drunkenly leaning against the wall on his elbow as he pissed into the snow.

Rhys rolled his eyes, not really registering all that Jack was saying. It was pretty clear the man was drunk.

“You’re drunk Jack. Go to bed.” Rhys muttered before hanging up.

“Hey…HEY Rhysssss…wait…” Jack whimpered to the echo device before ultimately giving up.

How dare the kid just hang up on him, on _him_ of all people. Jack was pretty sure he should have been furious, but instead he was just confused and drunk. So fucking drunk. So much so that all he could feel was anxious and panicked for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on.

Suddenly Jack felt eyes upon him and he groaned out. Jack shook himself and repacked his dick into his jeans turning to address whatever cock sucker dared interrupt him. Two glittering eyes stared out from the dark shadows splaying out through the alleyway.

“What! What didya enjoy the show or sumthin you fuckin weirdo!? Gettoutta here before I blast your jaw off.” Jack mumbled angrily, eyes lazy and movements even more so.

Elpis shone down through the gloomy, cold night, big and bright bathing the world in a pale glow. The eyes did not waver, even after Jack’s threats. This only infuriated the Hyperion CEO. Jack took a step forward, reaching around to his gun clumsily and yanking it out of the holster.

“I’m not playin’ anymore kiddo!” Jack snarled cocking the weapon.

That’s when it moves and Jack knows whatever it is…it isn’t human. Jack feels all the breath leave him as a big silhouette shifts through the darkness, back rising, head lifting. It’s got to be nearly nine feet tall, still shrouded in darkness, but Jack can just see the glint of moonlight on its form. The thing takes a slow step into the light, one clawed paw shifting forward in the snow. The rest of it follows closely behind. It stands the way a human might, only more primal, hunched over until its massive claws nearly drag the ground. A long snout joins those glittering coal eyes and long ears slick back to a massive skull. Jack is sure he’s sees resemblance to some sort of wildlife that roams down on this stupid planet but he’s drunk and he’s unable to really grasp onto any sort of information. The beast tilts its head, as if to observe the man before it, intelligent eyes rolling in deep sockets. Jaws part slowly, its face splitting in two as they open and it is as enthralling as it is terrifying. Sharp fangs string with remnants of its last kill, blood lazing down off its gums and painting across the fresh snow. It’s so cold and the beast’s breath comes out in little ribbons of mist as it growls. The sound is like a rumbling drum in its chest, coming up slow and frightening. Jack doesn’t move, simply stares. He’s drunk and he’s afraid.

The beast lunges, jaws wide and claws spread and Jack shoots. Teeth snap down on his shoulder, sinking in and tearing flesh.

Sirens wail through the camp at the sound of the screams and the gunshots and blood splatters the pristine white snow.

Jack scrambles back away from the beast now lying dead in the snow, jaw slack and eyes absent of life. He’s bleeding and shaking and everything simply happened too fast. The monster lies so still now and so big. It’s like some nightmare come into brilliant light and for a moment Jack assumes this all has to be a dream. When the creature’s lifeless form begins to shift, he reassures himself that this is in fact a horrid nightmare. The creature is melting away then, bones moving and face contorting, until all that is left lying there in the snow is the body of a young woman, nude and bloody, gunshot wound to her chest open and gaping purple remnants still dancing around it from the slag shot.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Jack runs a frustrated hand through his brunette locks and his eyes flick back over to his partner standing across the room from him.

Rhys is angry.

So angry.

Jack doesn’t blame him really. Jack wants to be sorry, but apologies were never really his strong suit. Jack just sits on the edge of the bed and takes the punishment. Rhys has gone from addressing this softly to full on yelling and Jack has lost track of what Rhys is really more upset about, the fact that he got drunk and got hot and heavy someone else, or the fact that he nearly died. Though Jack feels the latter really isn’t his fault. In fact Rhys should just be happy he made it back to Helios in one piece. Jack frowns as he thinks back to several days previous.

Jack hadn’t known how to really explain it all. He’d been so drunk and all the pieces were hard to put together. The doctors that patched him up said the young woman most likely had a buzzaxe or something and he was so wasted he saw hallucinations. Though Jack wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure what he’d really seen and that bothered him to no end. What he had seen, was impossible and so he told himself the doctors were right. He’d been too drunk and he’d seen odd things. End of story.

But that didn’t change the fact that he now had a gaping wound on his shoulder that was wrapped in so many layers of godforsaken gauze that he could hardly lift his arm.

“This…this is so fucked up Jack!! I mean don’t you give two shits about anybody but _yourself!?_ ” Rhys yelled his voice shaking he was so livid.

Jack sighed.

“Kiddo I do care about you…” Jack tried but the words came out awkward and unlike him and they didn’t at all sound genuine.

Jack cared about the young man now pacing around the room throwing his hands up angrily, but he just really couldn’t say it. It was too confusing for him to really put a label on it. He liked the kid and he wanted to keep him around but other than that he wasn’t even sure what this thing was.

Regardless Rhys was angry and Jack felt somewhat bad because Rhys was angry.

Rhys obviously saw it as some form of cheating and that wasn’t flying with him. That didn’t really settle well with Jack either. He was a pretty loyal partner, or at least he’d liked to have considered himself to be. It wasn’t like him to do shit like this.

“Oh don’t give me that cheap crap Jack. You don’t. You leave me with your entire workload, so you can run off and get friendly with your Ex and then get torn to ribbons because you got wasted. You’re…you’re pathetic!!!” Rhys yells and Jack scrunches up his nose in distaste.

“Watch it kiddo.” Jack warns dark and low.

“Or what Jack?? Or what?? I have every right to be mad. You treat me like shit and then this… _this!?_ It’s always all about you, and I get left on the wayside. This is a two way street Jack!!” Rhys bellowed his hands moving and voice shaking.

“Look I said it was an accident Rhys, whaddya want from me?” Jack barked thrusting his hands out.

Rhys stood still, fists clenched at his sides, looking like he could implode at any given second.

“Oh, right. An accident. Ok. Well I’m accidentally leaving and you can accidentally go fuck yourself.” Rhys snarls turning to head for the door.

Jack pops off the bed and beats him there.

“What was that kitten?” Jack growls anger bubbling up from beneath his collar.

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” Rhys nearly spits in Jack’s face and it’s like a bomb has gone off in Jack’s bedroom.

Jack takes Rhys to the floor hard but Rhys gets the first punch in, metal fist colliding with Jack’s jaw and it knocks Jack stupid for a second. Jack punches with his one good arm and catches Rhys’ chin. Rhys is all legs and arms beneath Jack, hands scraping up to pull hair and kick at Jack’s groin.

“That’s playing fucking dirty kiddo!!!” Jack yells trying to hold him down.

Rhys lands another hit to Jack’s face, and Jack gets his hands around the young man’s neck. Rhys scrambles and pushes on Jack’s weight but he’s pushing down too hard and Jack’s hands are too tight. Suddenly it’s too hard to breathe and Rhys whimpers beneath Jack’s palms. Rhys’ fingers scratch over Jack’s broad knuckles and he wheezes against Jack’s grip, his vision blurring and his lungs crying for much needed oxygen. Jack only lets up when Rhys seems to calm slightly and the older man slowly takes his hands away from Rhys’ neck. Rhys coughs and sputters, hands rubbing over his windpipe softly.

Jack looks to Rhys and Rhys looks to Jack. Jack’s got an ugly gash to his eyebrow, blood pooling around his socket and it is going to make for a nasty shiner in the morning. His lip is busted and he spits blood down onto the floor in annoyance. Rhys doesn’t look near as beat up, but Jack was working with one arm, and Rhys’ hits were more merciless, all metal contacting with Jack’s face. Jack wants to be angry. He really wants to be. Thick eyebrows furrowed over his deep set scar, lips open and panting.

But instead he just leans down and presses his bloody lips to Rhys’. He kisses hard and Rhys tastes Jack’s blood on his tongue. Rhys is mad, but he can’t help but to kiss back. So the kiss is all tongue and teeth and blood and both men are ok with that.

Jack has nightmares about terrible coal like eyes and bloody jaws.

He has them every night of the week.

He doesn’t tell Rhys what happened and he starts on sleeping pills to try and ward the dreams away.

And he tries to forget.


End file.
